


The Lesser Evil

by everlit (Ink)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Pon Farr, Sex Pollen, feeelings and problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-11
Updated: 2011-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-22 12:24:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ink/pseuds/everlit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That she's standing here anyway is part spite, part frustration, and part concession to an unpleasant truth. None of it makes her <i>happy.</i> [troll pon farr]</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lesser Evil

**Author's Note:**

> This was (as might be deduced) a rejected submission for HSO Round 1. It's not my best work, but a friend twisted my arm into posting it, and--well, I do concede it has its merits. I hope you enjoy it, at any rate!

Karkat's door is the last on the left, all the way at the end of the hall. It's shut tight, not a sound coming out of it, but Terezi raps her fist against the metal anyway. The smell of red hangs there in the air, commingling with the thick, musky scent of genetic material. That was expected, and very likely the reason he hasn't been seen all day. She shouldn't be here. She has no reason to, and her presence is only going to make things worse, to confuse what she has been trying so hard not to get confused.

That she's standing here anyway is part spite, part frustration, and part concession to an unpleasant truth. None of it makes her _happy._

"Fuck off," Karkat calls. His voice is cracking, strained. "Why do none of you assholes get that if I wanted to talk, I'd fucking open the door--"

"How long have you been waxing?"

There's a long silence. If she listens hard, she can hear his heavy, labored breathing.

"I'm not fucking waxing."

"Don't be stupid." She asked around: no one's seen him all day. Yesterday he was wandering around the common room snapping at everyone, eyes glassy, putting things in the wrong place. "I can smell it."

The sound of something hitting metal--Karkat letting his head fall against the wall. "Since we got here--now will you go?"

Five days.

The combination to Karkat's door is his wriggling day, backwards. Undoubtedly he thinks it's clever.

This is a bad idea, but there isn't a better one. Karkat is curled in on himself in the far corner of the room, head in knees, radiating exhaustion and pain. The stench of sex is overpowering now. "What the fuck, Terezi--"

She pulls his head up by his hair and kisses him full on the mouth, cutting off the rest of that sentence. He's hot to the touch, even for a lowblood, and when she tugs at his hair again he moans. He's shivering. "Terezi," he says, when she comes up for air. "Terezi, wait, don't--"

His voice is practically a squeak. She can taste the red on his skin, smell that copper-honey tinge in every breath he takes: she wonders how she ever missed it before. "What?" She lets her hands trail down to his stomach. The scent's overpowering; everything around her seems less solid, less distinct than it was before. Like nothing matters anymore: consequences no longer exist.

It's dangerous.

"I--told you," Karkat says, with difficulty, "I'm not--going to be that asshole. No matter what you fucking think of me." He swallows. She feels the pulse of blood like electricity in him, and she'd like to taste that, she thinks, she'd like to put her mouth to his throat and bite down right against the pulse point--

She stays where she is, though, her fingers curling in the fabric of his pants. "We need you here," she says, and breathes in but that was a mistake, "not everything is about you, Karkat--" her fingers tighten and twist involuntarily and the look in his eyes is crazed, too open--

Maybe she lunges forward; maybe he just loses control. She can't tell, but his mouth is on hers and his grip on her shoulders is frantic, grasping. When she bites down on his tongue he whines and presses against her--they break apart and crash back together and bump noses somewhere in the process but he seems totally beyond caring. She slides her hand down to cup his bulge, squeezing--a little hard, but by the way his whole body shudders, it only eggs him on. "Terezi," he gasps, head tucked into the crook of her neck; "Terezi," he says, against her skin, and her hands at the fastening of his jeans fumble. She can feel the insistent press of her own bulge against her leg.

"Terezi," and it's a sob this time, a plea, he's trembling and she doesn't even bother to pull down his pants, just sticks her hand in there and strokes--"Terezi," and she loves his helplessness and hates it, hates the way her stomach twists when he says her name. She works him harder, twists to the edge of pain--he's not saying anything now, it's all one incoherent scream--

It doesn't take him long to come.

She holds him as he comes down (little breathy gasps, his blood on her tongue)--he might hit his head on something otherwise. "Better?" she asks, once he's calmed down.

He nods, eyes still closed. The smell of sour-salt-sex is everywhere. "Terezi," he starts.

"How long do you think it's going to last?" she says. She is not going to be the one who kisses him better again.

He pulls away from her--not that it gets him very far. "Are you fucking insane?" His face is still flushed. He attempts to hike up his pants, unsuccessfully, with one hand. "I don't--we can't--we are not doing this again and we shouldn't have fucking done it in the first place!"

She stands up. There's still a little of his genetic material on her hand; she wipes it off on her shirt. "What were you going to do, Karkat?"

"I told you, I can deal with it myself--"

"Don't be a dumbass," she says shortly.

He falls silent.

"It's the only logical solution--"

"No," he says. "It's not a fucking option."

They're only a couple feet apart. He isn't looking at her. His pants are entirely ruined, and genetic material has to be dripping down his legs, but he does up his jeans like none of that matters. Karkat has always scrabbled for scrap of dignity he can muster, even when there's none to be found. He's never known when to let go--it's why she pities him. "And why not?"

"Because--" He falters. "Because--fuck, because--"

"That's not an answer."

" _I can't do this if it doesn't mean anything, okay?_ "

Everything goes quiet. Karkat is hunched over, hugging himself, still turned towards the wall. She pities him. So she does something a little immature.

"Oh, Karkat, I am so flushed for you," she whispers, high and breathy. "I simply can't take it anymore. Fill a pail with me, _right now._ " She smiles at him. "Better?"

She counts to nine.

"Get the fuck out of my room, Terezi."

Terezi always wins. Funny how it doesn't make her feel any better.

 

***

 

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] started trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG] \--

GC: H3Y  
GC: SO 1 GU3SS  
GC: 1M SORRY  
GC: TH4T W4S K1ND OF 1MM4TUR3   
CG: WHAT THE FUCK, HOW ARE YOU STILL UP?   
GC: SHOULDNT 1 B3 4SK1NG YOU TH4T QU3ST1ON  
GC: WH3N W4S TH3 L4ST T1M3 YOU SL3PT   
CG: NAPS ARE FOR THE WEAK.  
CG: AND I'M NOT IN THE MARKET FOR A MOIRAIL, SO DON'T EVEN START.  
CG: WHAT, NOT GOING TO SAY ANYTHING?  
CG: I LEFT MYSELF WIDE FUCKING OPEN WITH THAT ONE.  
CG: FUCK, I  
CG: THIS IS STUPID. ARE YOU EVEN STILL THERE?   
GC: OF COURS3 NOT >:P   
CG: OH HA HA. YOU REACH NEW HEIGHTS OF COMEDY WITH EVERY SPIT-FLECKED SENTENCE.  
CG: BUT APOLOGY ACCEPTED.  
CG: I GUESS.  
CG: IS THAT ALL?   
GC: 1M ST1LL M4D 4T YOU YOU KNOW   
CG: YOU DON'T SAY? AND HERE I THOUGHT WE WERE SKIPPING THROUGH FUCKING FIELDS OF DAISIES TOGETHER  
CG: BRAIDING EACH OTHERS' HAIR INTO POEMS OF PLATONIC AFFECTION.  
CG: NO SHIT.   
GC: YOU DONT UND3RST4ND WHY THOUGH  
GC: YOU N3V3R D1D   
CG: OH, IS THERE A SUBTLE CODE IN THE PATTERN OF YOUR FERAL GRINNING THAT I'M FAILING TO GRASP?  
CG: IS IT THE ELEVEN INCH ONE THAT MEANS "KARKAT YOU ARE A FAT-MOUTHED, DIAPER-SHITTING GRUB WHOSE VERY EXISTENCE NAUSEATES ME"?  
CG: I THOUGHT YOU'D JUST SMELLED SOMETHING RED.   
GC: UGH  
GC: YOUR3 4LW4YS L1K3 TH1S, 1 DONT KNOW WHY 1 TRY 4NYMOR3   
CG: AND YOU ALWAYS SPOUT CRYPTIC BULLSHIT.  
CG: ARE YOU DONE?  
CG: HAVE YOU FINALLY FINISHED DISCOVERING NEW WAYS TO FAIL ME OUT OF TEREZI PYROPE ACADEMY?   
GC: 1 W4S GO1NG TO OFF3R TO H3LP YOU 4CTU4LLY  
GC: W1TH YOUR *L1TTL3 PROBL3M*  
GC: TH3 ON3 YOUR3 TRY1NG NOT TO TH1NK 4BOUT B3C4US3 YOU L1K3 TO PR3T3ND TH4T 1F YOU DO 1T W1LL JUST GO 4W4Y  
GC: L1K3 4LL OF YOUR OTH3R PROBL3MS 4ND 1SSU3S  
GC: YOU 4R3 R34LLY PR3D1CT4BL3 K4RK4T  
GC: 4ND YOU H4V3 N3V3R B33N 4BL3 TO S33 P4ST YOUR OWN 4NG3R 4ND S3LF-H4TR3D  
GC: TO TH3 TRUTH  
GC: YOU N3V3R D1D W4K3 UP   
CG: OH, SO KARKAT IS AN INERT SHITSTAIN WITH THE MENTAL CAPACITY OF A WORM AND A SHORTSIGHTEDNESS THAT WILL BE SUNG OF BY BARDS FOR CENTURIES TO COME.  
CG: ALSO NOT NEWS.  
CG: THANKS FOR REMINDING ME, THOUGH. I WAS ABOUT TO TENTATIVELY ENTERTAIN THE FANTASY THAT I MIGHT BE COMPETENT.   
GC: S33!  
GC: TH1S 1S 3X4CTLY WH4T 1 M34N >:[   
CG: WHAT I DON'T GET IS WHY YOU KEEP INSISTING ON THIS.  
CG: I GET IT. YOU DETEST ME.  
CG: FUCKING WASH YOUR HANDS OF ME LIKE YOU SO OBVIOUSLY WANT TO AND STOP DEMANDING THAT I FILL A PAIL WITH YOU WHEN I HAVE REPEATEDLY TOLD YOU  
CG: THAT I WOULD RATHER PERSONALLY OFFER MYSELF UP TO JACK NOIR FOR A GUTTING.  
CG: IS THIS SOME KIND OF CALIGINOUS ADVANCE? IT HAD BETTER NOT BE.   
GC: 1 DONT H4T3 YOU K4RK4T   
CG: LIKE FUCK YOU DON'T.   
GC: 1 P1TY YOU TOO MUCH FOR TH4T   
CG: WHAT

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] has ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] \--

 

***

 

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering gallowsCalibrator [GC] \--

CG: TEREZI?  
CG: FUCK  
CG: NEVER MIND, THIS IS MY STUPIDEST IDEA YET  
CG: WHICH WE BOTH KNOW IS A FUCKING ACCOMPLISHMENT.  
CG: I WILL GO STAMP 'ENORMOUS TOOL' ACROSS MY FACE INSTEAD, AS A WARNING TO THE MASSES.  
CG: FUCK, I   
GC: DO YOU N33D M3 TO COM3 OV3R?   
CG: I  
CG: WHAT   
GC: W3LL DO YOU   
CG: NO  
CG: I SAID I WASN'T GOING TO BE THAT ASSHOLE.  
CG: WHATEVER ELSE YOU MIGHT THINK OF ME, I MEANT THAT.   
GC: G1V3 M3 T3N M1NUT3S   
CG: OKAY  
CG: I KNOW YOU AREN'T ACTUALLY THAT STUPID.  
CG: WHAT PART OF NO IS INCOMPREHENSIBLE TO YOUR OVERLY-FLARED NOSTRILS?   
GC: YOUR3 TH3 L34D3R  
GC: L1K3 1 S41D  
GC: W3 N33D YOU *H3R3*  
GC: WH3N YOU LOOK 4T TH3 F4CTS TH4TS K1ND OF OBV1OUS   
CG: AND I'M A MORON FOR THINKING THAT'S BULLSHIT?   
GC: *3Y3ROLL*   
CG: I  
CG: TEREZI

\-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] has ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG] \--

CG: WILL YOU STOP DOING THAT?

 

***

 

This time she doesn't bother knocking, just pounds the keypad like it's Karkat's face, ripe for a drubbing. He flinches when the door slides open, and that brings her a kind of black pleasure--it leaves quickly, though. She was telling the truth before.

"Where's your bucket?"

Karkat turns, only halfway towards her. "I stuck it behind the recuperacoon." His posture is stiff, his shoulders up as if braced for a blow. "You know you don't--"

"Have to do this, I know." She's there already, bending down behind the recuperacoon. "But I do. That's what you never understood."

"I understand perfectly fucking well." By now she knows the way he moves--jerky, sudden, irritable--but it's different now, wrong, like he's forgotten how to move his limbs. He's a hovering blip by the desk. "You dance around it, with all your babbling about 'big pictures' and the 'truth,' like you think I'm a drooling moron who doesn't understand simple concepts. Well, I get it, okay? I fucking get _duty._ "

He spits out that last word. Terezi squares her shoulders. "You still don't know why I'm mad at you."

He laughs.

She smiles down at him. Then she drops the bucket at his feet--letting her grin widen when he jumps. "Funny, Karkat?"

"Fucking hilarious." His lip curls. "Karkat Vantas, winner of the Lifetime Achievements in Failure Award. Constitutionally incapable of performing the most simple tasks without wetting himself. In the asshole convention, he's fucking royalty. I'm surprised it took you this long to decide I wasn't worth the shits and giggles."

He smells like salt and anger, like an oil fire, and she is so--she is shaking--she holds herself back, deliberately, because Terezi Pyrope does nothing on instinct. "You stupid--little--wiggler--"

He glares up into her face. "Are you going to tell me I'm _wrong_ again?"

When she kisses him, it's deliberate.

When she bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, that's deliberate too.

Karkat flails backward, hands clutching the edge of the desk in a desperate attempt to keep balance--she covers those hands with hers, trapping him where he stands, holding him unsteady. "What the hell," he starts, breathing hard. Blood coats his teeth and the tip of his tongue. "What the hell, Terezi--"

"You are so _stupid_ ," she hisses. She leans forward and he leans back until he can't anymore. Their noses are practically touching. "Is that what you think? What you really, honestly think?"

She flicks out her tongue and tastes it: that sliver of red on his lower lip.

"You hate me." His eyes are on her, the whole time. "Don't dance around the subject--you think I'm a joke, and I know it," but his mouth opens for hers, when she decides she wants to taste that red from the inside. She bites down on his tongue until he moans, digs her nails into his hands; she breaks him open again and again, and he's trying to say something but that doesn't matter, she doesn't care--

"Terezi," he's gasping, jagged. She covers that sound with her mouth.

"You don't--don't you _dare_ , Karkat--" (what is she saying? She has no idea) "--you've never understood anything in your stupid--dumb--life--"

He untangles his hands from hers (there's blood all over them) and shakes his head like he's trying to clear it. "You always say the same fucking things."

"Because you always do the same fucking things--"

She stops. The only sound in the room is his breathing and hers. "You always do the same things," she repeats. She lets her hands fall to the fastening of her jeans, undoing the zip. He stays perfectly still. "You could understand, if you wanted--but you don't want to understand. You'd rather hide behind the same excuses you've always used!"

"Well, get on with it," he says, hoarse--and she wants to devour him from the inside, coat her mouth in cherry-red and leave him bleeding out on the floor--

He tastes like heat and arousal, and she's angry.

She forces her hands to remain still as she undoes his pants, pulls them down to his knees. "You've never understood anything," she says. She rolls their hips together, and when he gasps she can feel his breath on the side of her cheek--

"Fuck," and he arches back up in response, grinding against her bulge, "fuck, Terezi, please--" It's _good_ , the heat, the contact and the shock traveling up her sides--she doesn't know why that surprises her but it does. The bucket clatters between them.

They're pressed together like proper matesprits, like two people who don't know how to be apart; his hands have found her hips and her fingers are tangled in the back of his shirt. "You won't--you won't ever--" Her throat's dry. "You'll never understand--"

"Like I said--" and it's low, unusual for him, "not--fucking--news--oh _fuck_ \--"

It's the shock in his voice, it's that broken, stretched out sound--but she comes, just like that, shuddering against him. Her fluid spatters in the empty bucket.

She feels suddenly, abruptly empty.

"Terezi," Karkat starts, uncertainly, and the sound of her name snaps her into motion: she untangles herself from him (it takes a moment), and slides her hand down to stroke his bulge.

"You got one thing right," she whispers. "I'm sick of this. I'm sick of waiting for you to understand."

It's the truth. But so is this: she wants him to understand. She did then and she does now; she can't imagine that she'll ever stop. Over and over, she keeps pinning her hopes on a boy who never looks before he leaps and--fundamentally--never changes.

She's supposed to be a lot smarter than that.

 

***

 

Afterward, he slides down to the floor, drooping against the desk, every inch of him speaking exhaustion. She goes and dumps out the pail, more to have something to do than because she actually cares.

"Look--" and Karkat stops, caught a half second too late by the realization that maybe what he's about to say isn't very smart. "I'm--sorry, okay?"

Her hands tighten on the bucket. "Sorry for what, now?"

There's a long silence.

"Maybe you haven't noticed," and there's that touch of bitterness so common to him, "but I'm kind of an asshole."

"Well," she says, "then stop."

He doesn't say another word for a long time.


End file.
